And It Began

a black

James was at King's Cross station, platform 9 and ¾ with his mum and dad and a large trunk filled with all the materials he had purchased at Diagon Alley over the end of the summer. A large great-horned owl, which he had named Godric after the founder of the house he wanted to be sorted into, sat in his cage on top of his trunk.

"Godric Gryffindor," said his father, sitting James down for a small lecture after he had gotten his letter. "Was a brilliant man. Had the best idea of them all, Gryffindor did. You know, your mother and I were both sorted into that house."

"I know, dad," said James. His father had often mentioned many childhood memories of him and Mrs Potter in Hogwarts, never failing to remember to say that he had been in Gryffindor.

"Bravery, pride, the man had the right ideas. And not too stupid, either, Gryffindor was. A smart man. Had the idea of the Sorting Hat. Only hope that you can get into that house. Of course, your mother and I will be proud no matter what house you're in. Slytherin would be a little hard to swallow, but all the same, James, all the same. Just keep your fingers crossed for Gryffindor."

And James had. Gryffindor was the only house in which he desired to be sorted into, and to prove his loyalty to that house to his father, he had named his owl Godric.

His mother had James enveloped in a large hug, nearly squeezing the air from his lungs. "We're so proud of you, James. Remember that." She let go of her son and held him out at arms length, starring him in the eyes behind his black glasses. "You'll make us happy no matter what."

James smiled before being spun into a rib-breaking hug from his father. "I love you, James." He ruffled his hair slightly, giving James the appearance of having just stepped off of a broomstick.

Pushing his trunk along in his trolley, Godric sitting happily on top of it, James made his way to the scarlet steam engine, walking along the sides until he found an empty compartment. He climbed up onto the train and set Godric's cage down on the floor beside him. Turning back to his trunk, he saw another boy with black hair like James's, but much more tame and falling over his dark eyes in a cool fashion. The boy had an eyebrow raised.

"You're gonna need help to get that on," said the boy.

James smiled.

"Thanks," he said.

Together, the two managed to pull the heavy trunk on board and the boy turned and wheeled his own trunk to the door.

"Favour for a favour?" he asked, gesturing to his trunk.

"Course," said James. "Better hurry, though. It's five till eleven."

"Got it," said the boy and they heaved his trunk on board as well. "I'm Sirius, by the way. Sirius Black."

"James Potter," said James, holding out his hand for Sirius to shake it. Smiling, Sirius took it and pulled himself on board, pulling James off of the train.

James turned around to fight Sirius only to see that he was bent over laughing.

"You should have seen your face!" he wheezed. James climbed on board and ruffled his hair as his father had done. The two sat down opposite each other and closed the compartment door, shoving the two trunks under the seats and Godric's cage on the racks above their heads.

A loud whistle was heard and the students who had yet to climb on board gave their parents a last kiss and hurried into open compartments. James's parents waved outside the window. Mrs Potter was crying into Mr Potter's robes and he was just smiling at James, who waved frantically back at them.

And with that, the train left the station, heading towards the school.

"So, where was your family?"

"They were there, but they left for home with Regulus as soon as I got through the barrier." Sirius said the name with distaste, making a face.

"Who?"

"My brother. He thinks the same as them, so, naturally, they like him more."

James was very confused at what Sirius was saying, but before he could ask what he meant, their compartment door slid open and a mousy-looking face poked it's head in.

"Oh, sorry," he said in a high, squeaky voice. "I thought it was empty."

"No! We don't mind," said Sirius, scooting over.

The boy shyly walked in and took a seat next to Sirius.

"I'm Sirius," he said, offering his hand to the new boy.

"Peter," he said, shaking it.

"James."

"Hello."

"Hiya."

There was a short pause when James broke the silence.

"So, what house do you guys want to be in?"

"Huh?" said Peter.

"You know, what house?" supplied Sirius. "I want to be a Gryffindor. My whole family's been in Slytherin, but I can't imagine being sorted into that house of gits."

"I want to be in Gryffindor, too. But it's different for me," said James. "My entire family has been in Gryffindor. Can't imagine being in any other house, though I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too dreadful."

All this time, Peter was starring at the two with a vacant expression on his face.

"You Muggle-born?" said James, gaining more confidence with the presence of Sirius.

Peter nodded, looking down at his hands. It was obvious this boy was almost the exact opposite of James and Sirius.

"Well, don't worry. Nothing to be scared of. All they do is make you wear--"

Sirius's hand shout out and covered James's mouth and finished his sentence for him. "They make you wear a red dress and do a couple of dances, then they sort you on your skill. Gryffindor is for the better dancers."

Peter swallowed a hard lump in his throat and looked down at his hands. James looked inquisitively over at Sirius from over his hand and, when Sirius winked, a smile was creeping its way onto James's face underneath his new friend's hand.

*

Having already changed into their robes, James and Sirius were explaining the rules of Quidditch to Peter when a commotion was heard outside. The three slammed the door open and rushed into the corridor to see what was the matter, instinctively snatching their wands from their robes, Peter trailing behind the other two.

Three taller goons were towering over another first year who was trembling on the floor, his hands over his head.

"What do you think you're doing?" said James, stepping forward, causing the three older boys to stop and look up.

"A first year?" said the taller of the three. He had long white hair that was tied back in a ponytail and was carrying a black, pointed wand, resembling a sword, now aimed at the boy on the floor. "A first year who thinks he can stop me?" He turned to the other two boys behind him and began laughing madly. The white-haired menace took a step over the trembling first year and stood in front of James, breathing in his face as he spoke. "You can't stop me."

James licked his lips. "Says who?" he replied, defiantly.

"Says me, you douche bag."

Sirius and Peter both stood up behind James and glared at the boy, who began laughing hysterically. Though Sirius' show of bravery was surprisingly intimidating for a boy of his age, Peter could not hide his fright, and while he tried to narrow his eyes in the same threatening way as Sirius, all he managed to do was look like he was rather constipated.

"Three first years who think that they can take on a seventh year!" he laughed in a silky, dangerous voice.

James's eyes widened at the fact that he was a seventh year.

"I know you," said Sirius from behind James. "You're that man Malfoy's son."

"Lucius Malfoy at your service," he said, bowing low to the ground in a mocking fashion. His two cronies behind him chuckled stupidly.

"Let him go," said James, gesturing towards the first year, still on the floor, who by now had lifted his head and was watching the commotion with wide eyes.

"Or you'll what?" said Malfoy.

James raised his wand.

Malfoy raised his hands and mockingly cowered, laughing. "Ooh!" he said. "Now, I'm really, really scared."

Knowing full well that James knew no magic, he lowered his wand, slipping it back into his robe pocket. Making to turn around and walk back in the compartment, the seventh years howled with laughter when James jumped up at Malfoy, putting his hands around his throat and punching every piece of Malfoy that he could reach. Sirius jumped as well onto the other goon, following James's lead, and with a frightened whimper, Peter followed suit.

*

"The first day of term hasn't even begun and you three boys find yourself in detention. I don't think that ever, in the history of Hogwarts has anyone managed a detention so quickly." Professor McGonagall had only just met the three boys and already she could tell that the next seven years - if they lasted that long without being expelled - would be an adventure. Something to keep her on her toes.

"So," said one of the two with black hair. "We're the first to ever get detention this quickly."

"Did you not hear me the first time? Mr Potter, I presume."

He nodded, his lips curving up in the form of a smile.

"And you say, no one has ever done it that quickly?" This time, it was the second black-haired boy to speak.

"I can only imagine that you would be Mr Black?"

Sirius nodded.

"Well," she said. "You will receive owls informing you of the details of your detentions. Hurry along before I start the sorting without you," she said, bustling out through the room.

James and Sirius smirked at each other and followed McGonagall out of the room, Peter on their tails looking like he had just found out his grandfather had died.

"I think we may be able to start a tradition, what say you, Mr Black?" James held out his hand again, more warily than the first time when they had met on the Hogwarts Express, and Sirius shook it, grinning madly. Looking over his shoulder, James grabbed Peter's arm and pulled him forward, slapping him on the back. "Well done, mate," he said proudly.